


After Hours

by airaze



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, Detective OT3, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, My First Fanfic, OT3 - Skyewardlincoln, Really there's just a lot of kissing, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 00:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8123665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airaze/pseuds/airaze
Summary: About a week after the trio's first kisses, Ward gets injured on the job. Lincoln, of course, takes him to the hospital, where Skye, of course, is waiting to treat his wounds. Skye starts putting him back together, Lincoln goes to get coffee. Things devolve.Thanks Ves for the prompt: OT3 kiss, and thanks to her and Daisy for letting me write in their AU (also for all the awesome Skyeward content they put out). This is my first fic ever, so any criticism or advice is appreciated. If you want to be bombarded by skyeward content on tumblr, here's mine.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stargazerdaisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazerdaisy/gifts), [Anuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anuna/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



The smell and sting of alcohol swabs are starting to be weirdly comforting, Ward thinks. Looking forward to getting stitches can’t be normal.  He should probably be more worried about that –

“Hey! I can’t lecture you properly if you’re just gonna zone out on me, mister,” Skye’s a little on edge tonight. She’s never happy about putting him or Linc back together after one of their leads turns into ‘armed pursuit’, ‘resisting arrest’, and ‘assaulting an officer of the law’ (which is pretty often, these days), but her jokes and banter are sharper than usual.

“Now, this isn’t too bad, as far as cuts go. It’s straight and fairly shallow, so if you _take care of it_ and don’t break the stitches, it should just leave a pretty scar,” she’s saying, her hands moving in the smooth, steady push-pull rhythm of someone who’s done this a thousand times.

Him and Lincoln had been walking from the station to this little 24/7 diner with really good coffee after their shift had ended when the guy jumped them. He’d broken out of county and come after his arresting officers. With a knife. And 220 pounds of angry muscle. In the end, it had been Linc that noticed the guy – he’d shoved Ward out of the way practically before the scumbag had drawn on them. It was Linc he had to thank for a slash on his shoulder, as opposed to five inches of steel in his chest. He’ll probably have to take blondie out to dinner or something, a thank you for saving his life. Again.

“… gotta be more careful out there. I know you and Lincoln are the dynamic duo, and you have each other’s backs or whatever, but… this… this one was too close, okay, Grant?”

Now she has his full attention. Most of the time when she uses his first name she’s seriously upset. And, looking closer, her hands are shaking a little. Shit.

“Hey, Skye. Hey. What’s the matter?” He reaches a hand out, touching her arm. The stupid crinkly paper on the exam table shifts under him as he leans forward.

“This… this guy wasn’t some random crook you two were chasing. That’s bad enough,” she starts, not meeting his eyes.

“I know, and-“

“No, Grant, you don’t know! This guy wanted to k-“ She chokes over the word, brows knitting together, but now he can see she’s gathering steam.

“He wanted to hurt _you_ .” She steps _way_ inside his personal space and pokes his sternum.

“Both of you.” Poke.

“He wasn’t out to rob a little old lady or something!” Poke.

“He wanted to _hurt_ you.” _Poke_. She’s almost shouting now, (and the poking has more or less escalated into punching), but at the end her voice breaks a little.

When she goes to poke (punch) him again, he catches her wrist and draws her into a hug.

“Whoa! Hey, hey. Are you, uh, are you saying you’d rather him be out robbing little old ladies? Because I’m fairly positive you know I’ll never let anything happen to Gramsy. Aaand the guy’s locked up for good, now. I’m pretty sure he’s never gonna see the light of day again.”

She wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his good shoulder. Suddenly, her nearness is all he can think about. He’d missed her, in the few days after their kiss at the jazz club. Being close to her (and Linc) just feels right.

He can feel her quaking against his chest, but she looks up and there’s laughter in her eyes. “I’d like to see some asshole _try_ to mug Gramsy. We’ve talked, and she’s way tougher than you, nerd.”

“Gee, thanks, Skye. Seriously, though. I’ll talk with Linc about it. We’ll try to be more careful from now on. For you.” She’s still staring up at him, head tilted, and her eyes have gone all warm and soft and sweet.

“Well… look, just ‘cause you’re being all reasonable and…” She glances down at his bare chest, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Firm… doesn’t mean that I won’t be talking with Lincoln about it too.”

The needle and thread are long forgotten at this point. All he can think of is Skye. And she’s standing so close, and she’s so lovely and soft and small and fierce with her ponytail and blue scrubs, and now she’s biting her lower lip and smiling, and she smells so _good_ and - fuck it.

He leans down and kisses her.

 

******

 

 _Finally,_ she thinks as his lips move over hers. The kiss is fairly tame, at first - Ward changes that quickly, though, as his hands come up to cradle her face and his mouth opens for her. He’s got the sort of short, thick hair that makes her want to rip and pull at it, just to see what it looks like all messed up, so she does, and now he’s literally _growling_ as he’s kissing her. She can feel the vibration in his chest throughout her body, and that’s definitely doing _things_ for her, and was she just complaining to Mack about how she was always freezing in the ER? ‘Cause everywhere Grant’s touching her now, she feels like she’s burning up. He breaks the kiss to duck down and nuzzle at her neck, which is good, because kissing him is wonderful, but breathing is also nice, when she feels his grin against her skin, and a suspicion begins to form.

“Hey, Grant… did… did you plan for this to happen?” God, is that her voice?

“Mmm, yeah, Skye. I went and got myself stabbed just so I had an excuse to come to the hospital and make out with you.” His voice is doing this low-and-gravelly thing that should be illegal, and he’s definitely laughing at her in between pressing kisses to her neck, so she retaliates by dragging his lips back to hers.

She’s in the middle of congratulating herself for picking a room with blinds on the windows when Grant decides to slide off the exam table, and that’s - yeah, that’s much better, now that he can press all of himself up against her. His hands are sliding down her back, and she’s pretty sure she’s making all sorts of embarrassing noises. Then he pulls what she’s guessing is a patented super-secret detective move, and lifts her up to sit on the table, all without breaking their kiss. She can’t stop her hands from tracing the muscles of his arms and back, because, honestly, it has to be against some rule somewhere for him to walk around looking like _that_ all the time -

“Starting without me again, I see,” Lincoln’s amused voice comes from over by the door.

Grant pulls away from her, blushing bright red, and grins down at her. “Yeah, Skye, what the hell? Where’s the fairness?”

“Wha- I- but you-” She breaks off with a huff as she realizes they’re teasing her, then smiles shyly at Linc, who’s still standing by the (thankfully closed) door holding the cardboard carrier with their coffees.

“Then…” She trails off for a second, and she’s sure her cheeks are flaming, “get over here and I’ll make it up to you.”

He laughs as he sets the drinks on the counter and walks over to her, placing his hands on her thighs and ghosting them up and down. “Do I get to be shirtless too?”

“Sorry, man. You’ve gotta get stabbed first.” Grant’s leaning up against the wall, lips red and swollen, faint scratch marks on his arms and hair mussed attractively (damn him), smirking over at them.

“I mean, all things considered, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Lincoln’s still smiling as he brushes his lips against hers.

Linc’s kisses are different than Grant’s - Grant is fiery and possessive, dominating the kiss, hands moving her jaw to please him. Linc is playful, and his not-quite-a-beard level of stubble is insanely ticklish. She tries to deepen their kiss but he pulls away, making her chase his lips, and his relentless teasing is - fuck, it’s almost too much. He finally gives in, though, and buries his hand in her hair (because, apparently, Grant is talented and distracting enough that he’d managed to undo her ponytail) to pull her close.

She’s a nurse, so she thinks she’s pretty qualified to say that her blood has been replaced by pure _want_ at this point. There are sparks dancing on her skin wherever Lincoln touches her, and she’s definitely gripping his shoulders way too hard. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, if his ragged groans are anything to go by, and she feels a surge of pride at the fact that _she’s_ drawing these sounds from him, that both Linc and Grant look at least as wrecked as she feels.

She’s having a hard time stopping her hips from rolling against Lincoln when he pulls away, panting. All that’s left of his irises are these little rims of green, and the way he’s looking at her is nothing short of sinful. _This must be what all the addicts feel like,_ she thinks, _all flush and shivery._ She knows she’s grinning like an idiot, but she can’t seem to make herself care. Luckily, Grant steps in and saves her from saying something embarrassing. “Okay, that was super hot and all, but, I mean, I’m the one who got stabbed here.”

This earns him a deep belly laugh from Lincoln, who saunters over to Grant. “Uh-oh, Skye. Looks like the big hero wants some attention.”

Her cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling so much. She probably looks ridiculous. “Greedy,” she murmurs.

And then they’re kissing. Her boys. They’re kissing, and it’s honestly the hottest thing she’s ever seen. Now she can definitely understand why all the dudes she’d been with in the past had been so stuck on watching two women make out. There’s just something so… _dirty_ about the way they’re going at each other. All that lean muscle, and the way Lincoln’s pushing Grant into the wall, and Grant is doing that _damn_ growling thing again as he grabs at Linc’s hair, and… well, if only the sisters at the convent could see her now. She didn’t think she could get more aroused, after the attention the boys had paid to her, but the display in front of her has her clenching her thighs together hard, and she’s almost ready to combust.

Suddenly, Grant breaks away, hissing in pain - Linc had brushed against his stitches with his hand. “Shit - sorry-”

“No, no, it’s okay. We, uh, were probably getting carried away there anyways.” Grant casts a rueful glance at Skye, still in place on the exam table.

She grins back at him, then checks her watch. “Well, luckily for you guys, it’s almost time for me to get off.”

Grant and Lincoln share a look, and then they’re both staring at her, smiling.

“Not like - I mean- _rrrgh_ , just let me clean Ward up, and then we can go.”

They’re still smiling, but softer, like they’re both just _there_ for it, all the way.

“Pancakes?”

“Pancakes.”


End file.
